Last Train To Clarksville
by Lone Wolfette
Summary: Early 3rd season. The guys take a trip to the Wild West & get more than they expect.


Last Train To Clarksville

**Rating: G**

**Genre: Parody/Comedy.**

**Summary: Early 3rd**** season. The guys take a trip to the Wild West & get more than they expect.**

**Distribution: Whomever would actually like to have it, assuming you've asked me first ;-)**

"I don't believe this," Larry griped, looking around, taking in the dirt road and run-down buildings.

Balki stopped next to him. "Cousin, look what I found."

Larry turned to see Balki holding what he thought was a gun right in his face. Balki held it so close that Larry went cross-eyed looking at it. "Balki..." he began, attempting to remain calm, "why are you holding a gun in my face?"

"This not a real gun," Balki said, then squeezed the trigger, proving it to be a water gun, and spritzing Larry in the face.

Larry swatted Balki's hand away. "Don't _do_ that. It's bad enough the Chronicle made me take this assignment. You don't have to make it worse."

"Cousin, this is going to be fun. It really looks like a ghost town."

"Great. Maybe if we're still here, we can catch the shoot-out at dawn," Larry said, sarcastically.

"Can we?" Balki asked, hopeful.

Larry sighed. "No, Balki, I just want to get material for my article and leave."

"I want do something fun."

"This isn't the Wild West. It isn't supposed to be fun."

Balki looked like he was about to start pleading, but crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Because you suck the fun right out of it."

Larry grinned at his frown. "Exactly."

"Come on, Cousin, can we go into the saloon?" Balki asked, then pouted. "I want to try a shot of red eye."

"If it'll make you happy, we can go in, but we won't stay long," Larry replied, then paused. "Do you even know what red eye is?"

Balki started past him to the saloon, and Larry followed. They entered through the swinging doors. Just like any other saloon, it was crowded with rowdy, poker-playing drunks.

Balki was about to cross to the bar, but Larry rested a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Cousin?"

"Balki, look around. We don't belong in here," Larry said, then removed his hand from Balki's shoulder.

"Awe, Cousin." Balki ignored Larry's warning and crossed to the bar, leaving Larry at the door. He waved the bar keep over.

Larry remained at the door, surveying the rowdy bunch.

"Not from around here?"

Larry turned a glance at the small, young woman who now stood next to him. "No offense, but definitely not."

"None taken," she replied. "That a friend of yours at the bar?"

"How can you tell?"

"Yer the only two dressed like normal people in here." She smirked.

"Well, I'm actually on a newspaper assignment," Larry offered. "What's your excuse?"

"You don't think I belong here?" she asked, the smirk still remaining.

Larry's brow arched. "Well... that wasn't quite..."

Her smirk changed to a smile. "It's okay. I'm the Sheriff." She watched his eyes get wide. "What, ya think I'm gonna put you in the jailhouse for talking to me like I'm a normal person? Heck no."

"It's just that, uh–" Larry paused, searching for the right words.

"I may not look it, but I'm pretty tough," she said, adding a wink at the end. She extended a hand. "Leigh."

Larry accepted, and they shook. "Larry. My friend over there is Balki. He's the one the got me into coming here."

"You don't like it?"

"It's more like, there were better assignments available, but Balki wanted this one and wouldn't stop pouting until I gave in," he explained.

Leigh laughed. "You've got an interesting friend."

"Thanks. Would you like to keep him?" Larry asked, a thin smile appearing, as he gave her a wink. He glanced around again. "What exactly do you for fun around here?"

"Well, there's the shoot-out," Leigh replied.

Larry flinched. "I thought I was just kidding," he muttered. "Shoot-out?" he finally repeated, his voice raising an octave. "Isn't there anything that doesn't involve guns, real or fake?"

She gave him an odd look, but didn't have a chance to reply before Balki joined them.

"Cousin, you're mix and mangling," he commented, happily.

"Yeah," Larry humored him. "Balki, this is Leigh. Leigh, my cousin Balki."

Leigh extended a hand, but Larry grabbed Balki's shoulder before he could move.

Larry leaned over and whispered to Balki, "If you even _think_ about groveling at her feet, we're leaving, without my story!" He let go of his shoulder.

Balki nodded, made a move to hug her, heard Larry clear his throat, and accepted her hand. "Hello."

"So, uh," Leigh began, a bit thrown off by his behavior, "you like our little town?"

"Oh, yes, very much, except Cousin Larry won't let me have any fun," Balki answered. Larry rolled his eyes.

Leigh saw it and smiled. "I have an idea for you fellas."

"What kind of idea?" Larry asked, skeptical.

"Just follow me. I'll explain it in just a bit." Leigh waved them along and left the saloon.

"Cousin, what do you think she meant?" Balki asked.

"I don't know," Larry replied. "Whatever it is, though, had better not be embarrassing." He left, with Balki following right behind him.

"So, this is your... office," Larry said, glancing around the room, his eyes landing on the single jail cell in the corner of the room. "I guess you don't get too many people around here who break the law." Or so he hoped.

Leigh smiled. "It's funny you should comment on that. Since Balki wants to have some fun," she smiled at him and he returned it, "I've thought up a variation of the shoot-out. And, I'm sorry, Larry, but it does involve cap guns." She watched his brow arch. "Balki," she turned to him, "I have something for you." She dug in a box next to her desk and pulled out a holster and two cap guns. "This is for you."

Balki took the holster and cap guns. "Do you have the hat, too?"

"Sure do, if it fits, that is. Be back in just a moment." Leigh went into an adjoining room and came back with tow hats: one white and one black. She handed the white one to Balki.

"Thank you," he said, taking the hat and grinning.

Leigh held out the black one to Larry. "Yers."

Larry took it, but gave her a questioning look. "How come Balki got the white one?"

Leigh winked at him, but didn't answer. She went back to the box and pulled out another holster with two cap guns, which she handed off to Larry.

"Exactly what are we supposed to do with this stuff?" he asked.

"Use yer imagination, Larry. You're supposed to write an article, so why not experience what yer gonna write about," Leigh said, then paused. "Well, go on and get outta here!"

The guys jumped a bit, then left.

"Use my imagination," Larry muttered, inspecting his hat. He shrugged and put it on his head. It fit perfectly. "Balki––?" He turned and got one of Balki's cap guns in his face. Again, it was so close that he went cross-eyed looking at it.

"I suggest you get moving, Cousin," Balki said, smiling.

"Right," Larry said, then made his get away. He ducked between two buildings about fifty feet away and watched as Balki crossed back over to the saloon, twirling a cap gun on his finger. Slowly, he began to smile as an idea came to him. He went back to the jailhouse to find Leigh.

"Yer back so soon? What happened?" she asked, smirking.

"Got any more western get-up?"

Balki walked up to the bar as the bar keep turned around.

"You again?" the bar keep commented.

"But this time I have a hat." Balki paused. "Do you have more of that lemonade?"

"Sure, do,"the bar keep replied and went to get it.

Balki glanced around the saloon in the meantime. He stopped when he was looking at the doorway.

The swinging doors opened slowly and smoothly. A man in all black walked in, his hat pulled down so far that Balki could see his eyes. The black button-up shirt he wore with the top two buttons undone had a bit of white trim on the front. The black jeans tapered into a pair of black cowboy boots with steel toes and spirs. The man looked slowly from side to side, then noticed Balki. He stepped in, letting the doors swing and strode up to the bar.

Balki tried to get a look at his face, but he turned to the bar keep, who then stopped in front of Balki with the lemonade and muttered something about "not another one." He watched the bar keep take the stranger's order and go to get it, returning more quickly than he had with his.

The man in black downed his drink and Balki did the same. The man nodded toward the doorway, then got up and went out. Balki followed, trying to catch up with him outside, but found the man standing, back to him, with his arms crossed over his chest. Just before Balki was next to him, from behind he could see a mass of curly brown hair coming out from under the hat. Balki moved around, in front of the man.

Larry grinned as he looked up and met Balki's surprised look. "Like the clothes? I think they add just the right touch."

"Cousin, I thought you didn't even want to be here. Now, you look like you moved in," Balki said, still surprised.

"I didn't, at first, but now I'm starting to like it."

Balki paused before replying. "You like her, do'n you?"

"I really don't think that makes much difference. Anyway, you're the good guy, so what are you doing standing here talking to me? Get going before I draw my cap gun," Larry said, resting his right hand on the handle.

Balki turned and went back into the saloon.

Larry started in the opposite direction. "I like this."

A couple hours later, sundown, found Larry sitting on a log fence near the outside of the town. The last time he'd found Balki, they'd agreed to meet there at sundown. In the meantime, he checked his cap guns, finding one empty and the other nearly empty.

Larry glanced up and down the street, but still saw no sign of Balki. He sighed and wondered briefly if Balki had forgotten where they'd decided to meet and went back to the jailhouse. He decided to stay a little while longer, though, in case Balki was just late.

After several minutes, he noticed someone on horseback moving closer. He watched and realized it was Leigh. She brought the horse over to the fence.

Larry didn't like the look on her face. "What's wrong? Is it Balki?"

Leigh nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Did he hurt himself?"

"No, Larry. He's missing." She swung a leg over and slid off the horse, tied it to the log fence and walked over to Larry, who had since stood up.

"I don't know what happened, but the bar keep found this outside the saloon, tacked to the door with an arrowhead." She handed over a piece of paper.

Larry read the note and gave her a disbelieving look. "This is a joke, right? Balki's trying to get me back for earlier." He motioned to his newly acquired cowboy outfit.

Leigh sighed. "This is real, Larry. I figured out from that note who has him. We do have our share of outlaws, ya know."

His brow arched. "I'd been hoping those wanted posters were just decorative," he commented. "So, what exactly do we do?"

"What else? We find him and get him back," she replied.

"Just like that?" Larry snapped his fingers. "If these are real outlaws, then they have weapons. Real weapons, like guns. I've only got two cap guns and one of them is empty."

"Larry, I've been sheriff for going on seven years now. I know what I'm doing. In other words, I have real guns at the jailhouse. Now, come on, we have to work out a plan to get Balki back."

"Plans I can deal with," Larry commented, as Leigh untied her horse. She climbed up and waved for him to get on. "Wait a minute, you never mentioned anything about riding a horse."

Leigh gave him an amused look. "Are you afraid? All ya have to do is get on behind me. It's easy."

"Do I have to?"

"The faster we get to the jailhouse, the faster we can find Balki."

"All right, just... help me get up there." Larry moved next to the horse.

Leigh extended a hand. "Give me yer hand and put yer right foot in the stirrup."

"Just don't make me fall off the other side," Larry said, then made an attempt to get on. He swung his left leg over the other side, and yelped as nearly fell off the other side, but stopped himself by wrapping his right arm around Leigh's waist.

She smirked at him over her shoulder as he finished righting himself. "Hold on." She winked and snapped the reigns.

Larry yelped again, closed his eyes, and now had both arms wrapped around her waist, holding on for dear life.

Over her shoulder, Leigh said, "After we find Balki, I'm gonna teach you how to ride. That way, I can hold onto _you_."

"Not funny," Larry whined.

"Black Bart? How original," Larry said, putting the wanted poster down.

"I only said we had _real_ outlaws. I didn't say they were smart," Leigh corrected, her feet propped up on her desk.

Larry sat back in his chair. "So, this guy is a real outlaw and he's probably got real guns. What are we supposed to do? Find him and ask him to please let Balki go free?"

Leigh opened a desk drawer and held up a revolver. "I'm not too shabby with a gun. You keep forgetting I'm really a sheriff."

"Great. In the meantime, I'll be making sure your horse doesn't run away." Larry sighed, rest an elbow on Leigh's desk and propping his chin in his palm. "It scared me enough the first time I shot the cap gun. I seriously doubt I can handle a real gun."

"In that case, I can rpovide the distraction while you find Balki."

"And if Bart has someone watching Balki...?"

Leigh rolled her eyes. "Do you want to learn to shoot this? Is that what yer getting at?"

"No... I'm just trying to be a realist."

"Pessimist is more like it."

"Call it whatever you want. I just want to get Balki and get out of here."

Leigh leaned her chair back. "In that case, I think I have the perfect plan..."

Midnight. The town is quiet. One lonely light shone from the jailhouse. Across the street, in the alley, the light shone over the top of the wooden fencing.

From the far side to the hailhouse, Leigh looked over the top of the fence.

"Well?" Larry whispered.

"All clear" Leigh responded, also whispering. She glanced down. "One problem: there's nothing to land on on the other side and it's a seven foot drop from the top of this fence."

A silent moment, then "So, why don't we go around, instead of killing ourselves going over the fence?"

For the first time, Leigh didn't have a quick response. She glanced down at him with a look that said to not question her. Larry shrugged. Leigh climbed up and over, landing like a cat on the ground. She moved to the corner of the building and looked up and down the street.

Larry glanced over the top of the fence at the seven foot drop. His brow arched. "The things I do for Balki," he mumbled, then began over. He wasn't able to catch him before dropping from the top of the fence and fell, landing face-down on the gravel. "Ow..." he groaned and eased himself up slowly. He saw Leigh staring at him.

She shook her head and gave a harsh wave for him to follow. He joined her eventually, while continuing to brush dirt off his clothes. "You go down to the left, I'll go up to the right." Leigh inched her way around the corner and took off up the street.

Larry crossed the alley and stood clinging to the corner of the other building. Something didn't seem right about all of this. It was too quiet and it made him nervous. Moreso, probably, than if he actually saw someone walking around. All this trouble for an article. Larry decided he wouldn't let Balki forget about this.

He finally decided to inch his way around the corner, staying in the shadows. Fortunately, his all black outfit made him feel like he was blending into the shadows.

Larry reached a window and stopped a moment before dropping to the ground. He slowly moved past the window and turned a look up at it while he kept moving... and smacked himself directly into someone's leg. He swallowed hard, but didn't look up.

"Well, howdy, par'dner."

Larry's eyes went wide, but then narrowed as he realized there was something odd about this guy's western accent.

"Cat got yer tongue, par'dner?"

He shook his head, then took a wary glance up. The other guy's face was shadowed, mostly by the cowboy hat he wore. "N-no," Larry stammered.

The man pulled Larry to his feet, and drew his gun on him. "You must be lookin' for yer friend, par'dner. I can take you to him."

Larry kept a steady stare on the gun pointed at him. He finally ventured a quick glance at the man's face, only to find him smiling. "A-and we'll be leaving as soon as you do."

"You ever heard about Black Bart, par'dner?"

Larry nodded.

"I'm Black Bart. You got yerself a gun, par'dner?"

Larry remembered all he had was the nearly empty cap gun. He nodded again. This was it. So, this was how it would all end.

Bart aimed his gun toward the sky. "Ten paces, turn, and shoot." He turned his back to start the paces.

Larry swallowed hard as he turned and started his paces. His mind was reeling. He'd give just about anything to get out of this predicament alive... and then get a paper bag to breathe into. He had just taken his fifth pace when...

Bart called out, "Turn and draw, par'dner!"

Larry closed his eyes, spun around, pulling out his cap gun, and shot it off... somewhere, he really didn't know where his aim was. He heard Bart's gun go off, yet he didn't feel anything. Maybe death was that quick? He opened his eyes slowly and found Bart right in front of him. "Y-you didn't sh-shoot me?"

"Well, of course not, do'n be ridiculous! It's just a cap gun, Cousin." Balki flicked his hat brim up to reveal his face. "Or should I say, par'dner."

"You tricked me?" Larry said, in disbelief, then reached for Balki's neck. "How could you do that!"

"Cousin!" Balki choked out. "I can't talk when I can't breathe!"

Larry let go of his neck, but grabbed two handfuls of his shirt. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I wasn't having any fun," Balki replied.

"You boys're a riot, ya know that?" Leigh commented, walking over to them. When she joined them, she detached Larry's hands from Balki's shirt.

"I don't believe this," Larry began whining.

"Awe, Cousin." Balki wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Leigh covered her ears against Larry's high-pitched nonsense whining. "Can you make him stop?"

"Cousin," Balki said, tapping Larry on the head. He looked up with the usual pained expression. "Do'n do that." Larry's brow arched and he stopped whining. "Much better. Now, can we go back to the hotel?"

Larry nodded and sulked off, beginning to mutter to himself.

The next night, back at their apartment, Larry was seated at the table, working on his article.

Balki came out of his room. "How is the article coming, Cousin?"

"It's almost finished," Larry replied, then paused. "Balki, what are you holding behind your back?"

Balki place a card on the table. "Just a little something Leigh wanted me to give you."

Larry picked up the card and read: "Free horse back riding lessons." His brow arched and continued: "You'd make a great jockey. Leigh."

The End


End file.
